Updated: Nov 28, 2022
a fiction piece by Faith Patterson, Senior Communications Major
Looking at the cold, empty rocking chair that sways back and forth moving so effortlessly in an uncluttered room filled with sadness, silence, and despair. The bed is still made, the curtains left untouched, and the lamp covered in cobwebs. As I walked into this empty room, I saw my dog lying at the end of the bed, but the dog would not move a muscle while I tried to shove her off. She did not make a sound, but glanced at me, and I could see the mournful look in her eyes. My heart stopped, as I fell to the floor, my body felt heavy, so heavy that I could not catch my breath. As I started to look around nothing changed, everything was still the same cold, empty room the day that it had been left two years ago. When I got back up, I tried to make the room new again, but I felt an aching discomfort on my shoulders that brought me to my knees, like a weight that was pulling me down, I could not get back up, the weight was too burdensome. I attempted to scream, but my voice became lost, eyes welding, I gazed up at my dog, but she was no longer there, neither was the bed, the rocking chair, the curtains, or the lamp.